


The Ongoing Mission of Will Solace

by orphan_account



Series: The Mission [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Backstory, Battle, Crushes, F/M, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-02 03:46:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8650171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: This will be an adjacent work to "Why Will Volunteered For The Mission" and will be linked in a series. This several-chapter work will cover from where "Why Will..." ended to the point when Nico enters the infirmary.





	1. The Hill

The three gathered in the dining pavilion ready to go. Lou Ellen's saucy violet eyes flashed, accentuated by the black grease paint, a dark turban-like scarf holding her trade-mark blue-black braids close to her scalp. 

"Alright, Lockie, I was told to dig out my Hallowe'en paint, stuff my pockets full of magic, and show up ready to die. What's the plan?" 

Lou's use of Will's old nickname had the intended effect - Cecil smiled and took a bite of the toast he'd been staring at; Will's eyes softened. The Australian daughter of Hecate had, since her arrival last summer, always insisted that Will was the American version of Lockie Leonard. No one knew what she was talking about until the rainy afternoon they'd all crowded into Chiron's study, managed to get an Internet connection and found episodes of the Australian TV show on youtube. Everyone agreed - the dorky, blond surfer boy was Will, for sure. But, it wasn't a natural connection for the American kids, and the nickname didn't stick, except for Lou. She could see now that Will was moving beyond Lockie into full Sean Keenan gorgeousness, but she wasn't going to tell him that. Will would always be Lockie to her.

"Basically, we're getting to the top of Half Blood Hill without dying, and then figuring out a way to mess with the Romans enough that Reyna can get here with the Athena Parthenos without dying, right?" Cecil spoke for Will around his mouthful of toast, "and if we see our old friend Nico di Angelo we are also supposed to somehow prevent him from dying."

Lou blew out her air, "seems we might be over shooting a bit on the not dying goal. And I don't suppose we have plans that are a bit more, I don't know, specific or, well, planned? Shouldn't Malcolm or Clarisse be in on this?"

Will's voice was quiet, but tense as a trip-wire. "Listen, it's us because you're going to hide us with some witchy mist," Will pointed at Lou, "you're going to fuck up the onagers," he pointed at Cecil, "and I'm going to...." Will's voice trailed off.

Cecil and Lou Ellen looked at each other while Will gazed out of the pavilion with a determined expression. What was Will's role in this?

"Ok," Cecil clapped his hands, "who needs plans? Dying, not dying, whatever. Let's go."

He flung his arms around the shoulders of his two friends and the others did the same. They pressed their foreheads together. In unison and with eyes tightly closed they murmured the ancient words of Tyrtaeus, the ancient Greek battle-send-off steeling their hearts for the task ahead:

"So cast off whatever fears arise at the armoured legions they'll muster before you.

Hedge yourselves 'round with hollow shields, and learn to love death's ink-black shadow as much as the light of dawn,

so that when that hour comes.... you won't hang back.. but advance as one to face your enemy..." (1).

They broke apart and headed out into the darkness. Cecil raised his middle finger to his forehead and pushed it towards the sky, irreverently muttering, "we who are about to die, salute you."

"I'm sticking to the not dying plan, myself," Lou said, but she reached over and brushed her hand against Cecil's and they hooked a couple fingers together. She'd hate to die before she could kiss him again. Was it just last night they'd sprawled beside Hestia's hearth, Cecil's bad jokes making her laugh so hard her sides hurt? She'd been begging him to stop after about fifteen "Mommy, Mommy" jokes in swift succession, and he did, lying on his side propped on an elbow, watching her get her breath. When she could breath again, she leaned in and kissed the crooked smile off his face. He'd wrapped his left fist in one of her long inky braids. When they pulled away, the smile returned, and his glasses were just as crooked.

They made their way up Half Blood Hill. This was the easy part - basic training drilled into them with daily practice and they could silently move through brush, roots and rocks, from tree to tree.  
Cecil kept half an eye on his best friend. Will, unflappable and intense, and goofy and sensitive all at the same time. He noticed Will's blond hair gleaming even in the pre-dawn shadows. Oops. The oversight didn't bode well. What on earth would make Will volunteer for recon and sabotage? What a trio of military might they were! More like 'The Three Stooges Go To War'.... Hermes kids weren't the type to be deterred by horrible or impossible odds; Cecil pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and trudged on.

All Will was trying to do was cobble together Plan A, Plan B, Plan C for if they ran into Nico di Angelo. Nico was not going to fade into oblivion on his watch. So, first, they had to see what they were up against when they crested the hill. Then, some sort of plan would materialize, he hoped. And if Nico was in sight, they had to get close to him and convince him to come in for medical attention. And since it was his turn to die, Will was determined to avoid irresolution, to go with his gut. His father had been incommunicado for the whole summer, but Will sent a general prayer to the Olympians: "I'm ready."

As they approached Thalia's pine tree, Lou swirled her hands through the air. "I'm covering us with two shields", she whispered. "Normal and Amotivation. If anyone sees us they'll simultaneously think our presence is appropriate and be amotivated to act even if they're suspicious. It's actually both a shield and a defense."  
"Thank you and shut up," Cecil mouthed. If the Roman's had the same idea, there could be scouts just beyond the tree who might hear them. 

The three demigods slithered forward. As they came abreast of the grand pine tree, they could see the valley below illuminated in palest gold in the first promise of sunrise. As Coach Hedge had described during the meeting, the Roman cohorts stood in formation with standards raised, but monstrous auxiliary forces also stretched as far as the eye could see - the valley fairly pulsed with barely contained chaotic pre-battle energy. Most terrifying, the three onagers aimed their gleaming loads of volatile imperial gold directly toward the camp. Will medically intuited the rapid heartrates and increased respiratory rates of his friends - their fear matched his own. They looked from one to another hoping a glimmer of a plan might be evident in someone's eyes.

A low hanging branch of Thalia's pine tree sagged and cracked suddenly, and instantly there appeared before them a filthy scrap of someone clinging to the tree for support with one hand, combat boots scraping into the rooted earth for traction. Despite the incongruous tropical shirt, Will would know this kid anywhere. He could hardly believe his heart could beat faster. He forgot to be quiet. "Nico?" he called out loud, the name filling his mouth with a sweet taste. Nico spun, and stayed his swinging black sword just in time.


	2. Prelude to The Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter could also be called:
> 
> Will and Nico Take Turns Saving Each Other
> 
> Or:
> 
> Why Is Will Acting Like Such A Goof?
> 
> From the top of Half Blood Hill through the messing up of the onagers, right to the point Octavian catches Will, Nico, Lou Ellen and Cecil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In an attempt to be true to how Mr. Rick R. wrote this chapter in BoO, I have used some of his dialogue. Full disclosure.

Reconciled to the idea that he was fated to die in the inevitable battle, Will was nevertheless not willing to die by Stygian iron sword before the battle could even begin. 

"Put that down!" Will hissed. "What are you doing here?" Relief at seeing Nico alive caused a tidal wave of adrenaline to flood Will's brain, white-noise filled his ears. Will watched as recognition flashed in Nico's dark eyes as he swept his gaze over the trio crouched in the grass. Then Nico's eyes narrowed.

"What do you think you're doing? Getting yourself killed?" 

Out of the corner of his eye, Will could see Cecil nodding sincerely, and he felt Lou Ellen tense beside him. Nico's words touched a raw nerve and Will felt a flash of defensive anger burn through the adrenaline-induced buzz. He had his own suspicions of personal inadequacy for this mission, but Cecil and Lou Ellen had legitimate qualifications. They didn't deserve a dressing-down.

"We took precautions," he snapped in defense of his crew, but Nico's incredulous evaluation continued. 

"You dressed in black, with the sun coming up. You painted your face, but didn't cover that mop of blonde hair. You might as well be waving a yellow flag." Cecil was nodding more emphatically now, like, "I know, right?" 

Will felt himself flush. Just because Nico was right didn't mean he really wanted to hear it from this seasoned warrior boy he'd secretly liked for a year. Will felt embarrassed and suddenly emotionally precarious, and he hated that. He felt his Apollo-inherited temper start to flare. 

"Lou Ellen wrapped some mist around us too," Will said, and got a withering glance including dubious raised eyebrow from Nico in return. Will clenched his fists. Why was Nico being such a condescending little jerk? 

At that moment Lou jumped in with introductions, buying Will some processing time. Gods! Will took a deep breath to get himself back on track. Now was not the time to fall apart about the fact that Nico, at the tail end of a harrowing quest, had some rough edges to his personality. "This isn't about you," he told himself, "Do your job!"

Will realized that Nico had just arrived by shadow travel, and as he was not dead (though he was pulling off a passable impression of a corpse - haggard and gaunt under a layer of grime) Coach Hedge (Will fervently hoped) might have underestimated Nico's frailty. The only way to know for sure was to make contact with Nico's skin and run a flash diagnostic. Will didn't like his chances. He was pretty sure any attempt to touch Nico (he mentally ran through his options) from sliding tackle to brotherly hug would result in bloodshed. He'd gladly take a bloody nose for it, but there was a high chance that a spooked Nico would just shadow travel to be out of arms reach, and a fair probability of a nose full of sword rather than fist. He had to come across as unthreatening as possible. Fortunately, easy-going doofus was, admittedly, one of his strongest personality traits.

Will heard Nico's voice asking about Coach Hedge and the new baby, shoddy-soldiership now apparently forgiven and forgotten as Nico actually grinned. Will had a flashback to the last time he'd seen that look: 'Snowball', like, a hundred years ago; maybe once after Manhattan. His heart did a flip-flop. And this was his in:

He heard himself start babbling like an idiot. Did he really just ask Nico effing di Angelo, Ghost King, if he'd ever delivered a baby? 

"My hands are still shaking" he blathered on (they weren't, but here was his chance), "See?" He grabbed Nico's hand. 

Nico had been listening to his manic rambling with an expression of increasing astonishment and maybe a flash of disgust at the end there, but at the touch of Will's hand, Nico's haunted eyes flew up to meet his. Will got the message loud and clear - "Don't!" - before Nico wrenched his hand away.

But Will had sensed enough, and what he sensed scared the shit out of him. He'd never come across anything like it - vital signs strong, and a psychic defense like a wall of obsidian, but an underlying and generalized... dehiscence... a coming apart at the seams on a molecular level. Nico was vibrantly alive, but his body was on the verge of discombobulation. Will was reminded of November ice on the big rivers back home - thin, thin ice that successfully contained the raging river below but which any small stress, a thrown rock, would disintegrate completely.

Will's uninvited touch had wiped the smile off Nico's face. "Whatever," he snapped dismissively. "The Romans are attacking at dawn and I've got to..."

Will interrupted, shaking his head. No way. He wasn't letting Nico shadow travel. He wasn't letting Nico out of his sight. "If you're planning to shadow travel to that command tent, forget it."

Will took on Nico's glare unflinchingly. Piece of cake. He could stare into those deep pools all day. Ha! Point for the guy with the crush! 

"Coach Hedge told me all about your shadow travel. You can't try that again!"

"I just did! I'm fine!"

"No, you're not." Will saw a tiny flash of uncertainty in Nico's face as he explained, "I could feel the darkness in your hand as soon as I touched it.... One more slip, and you won't come back. You are not shadow traveling. Doctor's orders."

Nico continued to insist, despite his apprehension. Will interrupted again,

"We'll stop the Romans, but we'll do it our way. Lou Ellen will control the mist. We'll sneak around, do as much damage as we can. But no shadow travel."

"But..."

"No!"

Nico stared at him quizzically, as if he didn't recognize him. Will stared back. He watched as Nico gave a long resigned sigh, pressing his fingers to his forehead as if his head ached and then dragging his fingers down rub his eyes. Will watched Nico turn his gaze down to the camp, his expression worried, angry, determined, exhausted, and something softer too. Will's heart squeezed.

"Whatever," Nico said again. "But we have to hurry. And you'll follow my lead."

"Whatever," Will thought to himself, "Just don't die."

******

Lou Ellen's mist held strong as they approached the first onager, and with the distraction of ruckus in the Fifth Cohort swirling around them Cecil managed the recalibration in record time while Will, Nico and Lou Ellen stood guard. Nico looked warily around, watchful, alert. Will watched Nico with his heart thumping. How was he going to keep this one safe? Will felt eyes on him and turned to see Lou watching him watch Nico. She gave the slightest eyebrow raise. Will held her gaze.

"Done," Cecil announced. "Let's move."

*****  
At the second onager the mist started to break down and one of the onager guards called out, "Hey!"

Will acted on his only thought, which was "keep the guards away from Nico", yelling, "Got this!" and sprinting in the opposite direction. He regretted it almost immediately realizing that should the Romans not just give up the chase, he would eventually have to turn and fight one on six. He'd kinda forgotten he didn't have his bow. Hand-to-hand combat, he figured he'd get one punch in, maybe two, before he went down. His lungs were starting to burn. What a pathetic way to die! He mentally apologized to the previous Apollo head-counselors who'd died fighting bravely and skillfully, instead of bravely and stupidly. Will spun around at the sudden cacophony of thump, thud, groan, clang, thud behind him, just in time to see the last guard hit the ground leaving Nico standing in the middle of six bodies knocked out or writhing in pain. Six squealing piglets raced by them. Nico just stood breathing heavily and shaking his head at Will. Will took a step toward him and felt a giddy, grateful grin on his face. Willing to suffer the consequences, he punched Nico's shoulder. 

"Thanks for the assist! Six at once isn't bad." 

Nico glared, but he didn't flinch away from the touch. Will was starting to love that glare.

"Not bad? Next time I'll just let them run you down, Solace."

"Ah, they'd never catch me." Will felt himself blush as soon as the lie left his lips. Was he inadvertently flirting? Here? Now? Nico had that quizzical look again. 

"You're the healer, I'm the fighter, Will. Why are you here?" Nico finally said quietly, knocking Will's breath, and his capacity for intelligent speech, out of him. After a moment that seemed like five long minutes, they both turned as Cecil signaled he was finished with the second onager.

****  
They couldn't even get close to the third onager without being spotted.

"F- my life!" from Lou Ellen, Aussie accent always stronger when riled, "They're expecting an attack now! Do we run?"

Will had a good idea where this was going as soon as Nico started to respond with fingers spread out before him. Will had seen the skeleton fighter trick before. He remembered twelve year old Nico almost dead at the battle of the Labyrinth. Sure enough, five skeletons burst from the ground to attack the guards. With a whoop Lou Ellen and Cecil joined the fray. Nico started to topple. 

"You idiot." Will found his mouth close to Nico's ear as he put his arm around him. "I told you no more underworld-y magic." Will expected to have to struggle to hold Nico up, but Nico didn't even try to pull away, though he growled,

"I'm fine!"

"Shut up. You're not." 

That Nico was putting up no physical fight whatsoever made Will very nervous. If Nico was starting to lose corporeality right here, there was no way he could get him back to the infirmary. Yet, Nico's body felt very solid in his arms - scary thin - but very present. Will remembered the gum as Nico dropped his head back against his shoulder. As he fished the pack of magic gum out of his pocket, Will had the ludicrous urge to kiss Nico's cheek. A medicinal kiss. "Don't," he told himself just in time. "Take this," he said out loud, holding out a stick of gum.

Nico didn't move his head but his voice was strong and disbelieving, "you want me to chew gum?"

"Should keep you alive and alert for a few more hours."

"Tastes like tar and dirt."

"Stop complaining." 

Nico still didn't move, and Will continued to hold him close to his chest. But as strength from the medicinal gum started to course through Nico, Will could feel him tremble against the embrace. As much as Will wanted to be the one to hold Nico up forever, it was better if Nico felt he was strong enough to push him away. This wasn't the right time for Nico to break down. Will wondered how close Nico was to that point. Will couldn't provide a safe place for that to happen right now. Nothing like a little defensive anger to rally some physical strength. As much as it hurt him to do it, he put on a bossy tone, 

"You won't be doing that again," he said, referring to the skeleton trick. He felt Nico push away from him to stand on his own two feet. Good. 

"I'll do what I want!" A lovely, vital, angry glare, too.

Will pushed it farther, though, just in case. He rolled his eyes, "Fine, Death Boy. If you want to get yourself killed..."

Nico was fairly spitting with rage, "do NOT call me DEATH BOY!". He looked ready to murder Will. Good, thought Will. Excellent, life-sustaining rage.

Lou and Cecil had no idea what was going on.

"Um... guys?" Lou began.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"


	3. Nico and Will and Octavian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will saves the day.
> 
> This chapter picks up precisely where my previous chapter leaves off and continues to the firing of the onagers.

Will and Nico turned as one to face Octavian and his elite guard of dog-headed cynocephali. Will could see Nico chewing the gum furiously, his face hard with anger and shrewd assessment of the threat they were now facing. 

For Will, time seemed to slow as his brain registered every detail - the bead of sweat rolling down from Cecil's temple to his clenched jaw, the tremor of Lou Ellen's fingers in a last ditch attempt to put a misty barrier between them and the enemy. He could see Nico's hand almost imperceptibly clench and unclench around the hilt of his sword, preparing to fight. Will knew it would never work. From the determined set of Nico's mouth, Will knew he knew it, too. That's why he was hesitating, even for this drawn-out split second. Will wondered if this when his own fated death would take place. Maybe it wasn't very noble or mythic of him, but Will felt himself unwilling to die just yet. 

Typical of skilled trauma medics, the more tense and chaotic things got around Will, the more calmly and clearly he could think and act. He could put broken things, like this sabotage mission, back together - that's what healers do. Will called on one of the more intricate and complex skills he inherited from his father. Not only did Apollo kids intuitively know and understand the way sound waves could influence specific behaviours - from inducing calm to physical healing - but they could also draw upon such power for their own use, to steel their own resolve, or for clarity of purpose. Will searched the background noise - Octavian's voice, the growling of the monstrous troops, Nico's chewing, Lou's breathing, the movement of the trees, the buzz of an insect, the incongruant singing of the birds, and was able to isolate and focus on one tone - Re at 417 Hz, the Solfeggio frequency for Undoing Situations. With this sound filling his ears, the only tenable solution crystallized in his mind: get rid of the dogs.

Will raised two fingers to his mouth and blew. He didn't quite hit the ultrasonic range at first, sensing more than seeing all the humans within a 20 metre radius wince and grimace and clasp their ears. Adjusting the frequency mid-whistle, the humans recovered (the frequency now out of range of their hearing), and the dog-men reacted as he'd hoped: howling and dropping in agony, completely incapacitated. Nico leapt forward to finish off the monsters in a flurry of jabbing sword and swirling monster dust. After, for the second time in less than 15 minutes, Nico stood breathing heavily from battle exertions, looking at Will intently. Will saw the slight movement of Nico's wide mouth, the slight eyebrow raise, the slight nod in his direction - respect, and gratitude. Will had never known anyone able to express so much so subtly. It made him giddy with yearning. He wanted to stare and stare. What would Nico's face do next? 

The giddiness erupted with Will's natural guilessness: 

"It's one of my few musical talents," he chattered in explanation. Will could just see, out of the corner of his eye, the look on Cecil's face at this untruth. Will blinked. (Was self-deprecation really lying? ...Was he always going to be flirt-lying to the son of Hades?) Will continued, a little deflated, "I do a really awful ultrasonic whistle." Will honestly felt ridiculous at how much he loved that Nico's mouth twitched at that. Not a smile, Will admitted, but he was pretty sure Nico was a tiny bit amused. 

Octavian wiped out every trace of brevity, bringing them back to the present with his screech: "Did you see what he did to my elite guard?"

Nico's expression shifted again, projecting so much hate and bitterness that even the small glimpse of it Will caught as Nico turned away from him to face their adversary forced his mind to fill with terrible thoughts and images - the unfathomable heat of blood spilling over his hands as he tried to staunch the flow, the screams of the wounded, the screams of the grieving - and he found himself completely paralyzed by terror in that moment before Nico had fully turned. Nico's usual glare was intense enough, but this look carried power beyond emotional complexity. The power to induce fear of that capacity was pure Hades, but even Hades himself used his helm to generate self-destructive emotions in his enemies. Nico could apparently accomplish that without any magical tool, by simply tapping some deep-down source of negativity. Will recalled the psychic defense Nico had erected when Will had touched his hand earlier that morning, that Will had likened to a wall of obsidian. What was behind that wall?

And what kind of sociopathic megalomaniac was this insipid, supposed-prophet, Octavian, that his expression didn't even change as Nico, dark look a-blaze, raised the wicked sword to his throat? 

Nico's voice was clear and sharp as ice, "Some dogs need to be put down."

Octavian didn't even blink, let alone flinch. If anything his eyes shone for a moment with a sort of lust - a lust for power. Will realized Octavian was baiting Nico, flattering him by admiring his power, his ruthlessness, tempting him to join the winning side, the Roman side.

"I'm fighting for the Greeks and the Romans," Nico insisted, voice still strong. Octavian had the gall to laugh in his face, and Will was shocked to see Nico's expression falter. 

"The Greeks don't want you, they've never wanted you!"

The slightest pause, as Nico's tongue flicked to moisten his lips quickly and his eyes darted to the left, told Will all he needed to know: Nico was hearing truth in Octavian's lies.

"I don't want a place at their camp," Nico spat out. "When this war is over, I'm leaving both camps for good."

Will couldn't breathe as Nico's bitter declaration punched him in the gut. It was the dining pavilion last year all over again. Nico was going to go away? For good? Not this time! At the sound of Will's gasp, Nico had turned. Will could feel his eyebrows furrowing, his cheeks blazing, irrationally angry at the unfairness and the irony. No one at camp had ever remotely mentioned they didn't want Nico around, and they certainly hadn't pushed him away. And Nico didn't seem to have the slightest clue that only steps away from him was someone who wanted him around so badly it felt like a necessity of life. Only slightly cognizant of the fact that this was probably not the time or place, Will found himself shouting furiously, trying to make Nico understand.

"You have friends! Or, at least people who want to be your friend! You'd see that if you just get your head out of that brooding cloud of yours for once..."

"Enough!" Octavian snapped, and continued speaking, assuring Nico of a place in New Rome. Nico didn't appear to be listening. He was staring a Will with a shocked expression like he wasn't at all used to being around anyone who dared to tell it like it is to his face. 

Octavian's conniving voice went on, "All you have to do, Nico, is step aside and allow the Romans to win. The god Apollo has shown me the future..."

Will couldn't take any more of this asshole. Nico's mouth dropped open even more as Will roughly shoved him aside to get in Octavian's face.

"I am a son of Apollo, you anemic loser. And the powers of prophecy aren't even working, so whatever future you think you know about is just your own ridiculous delusion. This is not what Apollo would have wanted."

As Octavian sneered, completely unfazed, the huge gears of the onagers thunked into place preparing to fire. The four Greeks, with apprehensive horror, and Octavian, with insane glee, forgot their quarrel and turned to watch the six golden comets shooting across the sky.


	4. The Field Medic and The Fated Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what happens while Nico and Will are separated during the battle as Gaea awakens.
> 
> ***Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! For any re-readers (and, thanks for that!) I just found a ridiculous inconsistency at the end of this work in Will's thought processes before Octavian dies. I had Will wanting to save Octavian, and then planning to stab him??? What?! It didn't make sense, and is a good lesson for me about editing. I have now fixed it. Gah! Thanks for reading! 2 more chapters to go, so, if this is your thing, stay tuned!***

As the chaos erupted around them and the Greeks and Romans closed ranks to face the waking Gaea and the auxiliary forces, Will grabbed Nico's arm and Nico wrenched around to look at him, but he didn't wrench his arm out of Will's grip.

"Will, I have to fight," Nico said, his eyes showing bewilderment at the intensity of Will's expression, and maybe at the strength of Will's hand. 

"Don't shadow travel," Will pleaded, and he didn't care if he came across as bossy or strangely needy. 

Nico looked non-committal, glancing toward the advancing enemy and then back at Will. 

"I gotta go, Will." 

"Promise you won't shadow travel! You'll disappear, Nico! You won't come back!" Nico took a step back.

"What do you care, really?" Nico said sharply. Will felt his mouth drop open, and a stupidly innocent and presumptuous image of he and Nico sitting knee-to-knee at the campfire holding hands flashed in his mind. Will let go of Nico's arm throwing his hands up in a gesture of surrender. He felt desperate, and then just angry, "Why do you push everyone away? ...Whatever... Just promise me no shadow travel." Nico started jogging away backwards, saying, "I'll do what I need to, Solace. If we lose, we're all dead." He turned away.

"Nico!" Will called after him. 

Without changing his pace, Nico looked back over his shoulder quickly, once, and that was it, and he melted into the front of the line with the First Cohort and joined the melee. 

Will was straining to keep Nico in his sights when he, Will, was surrounded by two of his siblings. Together the three of them would make up one of several field medical crews deployed from Apollo cabin - two healers, and a spotter with a short range bow to cover them, as needed, while they worked to stabilize the wounded and identify those past saving. Mara Fletcher slid the red armband with the gold asclepion, the field medic's identifier, up Will's arm like she was dressing a rag-doll while Will's eyes searched the battle chaos for loud tropical colours. Their spotter, 12 year old Polly, scanned their immediate surroundings, lightweight bow at the ready.

"Will," Mara said crisply, "Will! Let's go!!" She threw a backpack of gear at him and didn't wait as she jogged toward the advancing front line. Will fell in, matching her pace and her focus. Polly followed on rear point. 

Already, Will could see three fallen Romans in their path. He couldn't worry about Nico right now. That kid had taken care of himself for years, for whatever that was worth. In any case, the gum would hold him together for a few hours, barring any underworld stupidity. Will didn't even let himself contemplate Nico's depressing promise to go away after the battle. First things first.

"Pull yourself together, Solace," he commanded himself.

Mara was kneeling by the first kid and shaking her head as she felt for the carotid pulse. She quickly scratched some words onto a large adhesive label and gently applied it to the fallen warrior's forearm. Will knealt by the second, while Mara moved on to the third. 

Blood trickled from under the chest plate armour with each gargled breath this kid attempted. Will looked serenely into the shocky eyes, "I'm Will, and you're leaking." He smiled and held a canteen of nectar to the boy's lips, "Sip.... and one more. That's it." 

"Some kind of monster raptor," rasped the kid. Will scrambled to unbuckle the chest plate so he could see what he was dealing with. 

"Yes!" he agreed chattily. "It certainly got you. So brave! You're safe now." Relatively, Will thought to himself. His fingers finished their work with the buckles and he lifted the chest plate to reveal a slashing wound extending from ribs to hip. Will could see in his minds eye the long talon piercing the skin just above the hipbone and dragging upwards to finally penetrate the left lung. 

"What's your name?" Will asked as he searched one handed in his backpack for a pressure bandage and some ambosia. He might need to drain that lung, but he couldn't here. The right lung was clear, and for now the blood was draining out, and not into the abdominal cavity. 

"Antonio," the boy whispered. 

"Well, Tony, you'll live. You need to chew this up (here Will shoved a square of ambrosia between the boy's lips) and I'll tape you up." He pressed the bandage into place and ran a quick diagnostic. Antonio was stabilizing, and would be ok. "....and you need to be brave a little while longer. I'm going to set a flare, and someone will come and get you and bring you to our little hospital where we can fix your lung. You take slow, slow breaths, OK? I need you to just breathe, and say the alphabet backwards, OK? With a breath between each letter, OK? Z, Y, X.... That's it." 

Antonio chewed and swallowed the healing ambrosia, and whispered the letters like the meditation they were intended to be. Will lit a red flare to notify the stretcher bearers. He glanced over at Mara in time to see her finish splinting the broken tibia of a pale young girl who was on the verge of passing out from the pain of the rough field-boneset. Mara leaned forward and kissed the girl's forehead, literally sucking the pain from the girl with the ancient magical gesture, and spitting onto the grass so as not to absorb the pain herself, and the girl's face became peaceful. Will was always impressed by Mara's grasp of the primordial Apollon healing skills, amazed at the subtle differences in their skill sets. Mara's green eyes met his, tired already. The most 'magical' of their healing skills could, when used to their full potential, bring someone back from the brink of death and restore perfect health. And it was so tempting to push oneself to ease the suffering of the battle-wounded kids, but it wasn't wise. 

He admonished Mara gently, "Don't wreck yourself, Mara. They can stand a little pain. And we can't help them at all if we're collapsing."

Mara nodded, pursing her lips. She knew the truth of Will's words. This wasn't their first battle. As one, they stood and jogged on in the wake of the battle, on to the next. For 20 minutes they hovered on the edges of the advancing frontline, patching kids up at least enough to get them to the infirmary, being careful to note the dead. The two senior healers only absently noticed the arrival of the flying trireme carrying the questing demigods as a cry behind them made them turn. 

Polly had dropped to the ground, bow flung to one side, an arrow protruding from his thigh. The culprit, one of the carnivorous centaurs, was no longer a threat, taken down by Polly's expert retaliation shot. Will and Mara ignored the dying monster, kneeling beside their younger brother. The blood from the wound splattered them both in rhythm with the young one's beating heart. Will knew at a touch that the arrow had just nicked the femoral artery and had gone clean through Pol's inner thigh. 

"Slow his heart rate or we'll lose him!" Will ordered, pouring nectar over the wound. Mara leaned down close to Polly's ear and hummed the tone for Stillness, Polly's heartrate responding instantly and the pulsing bloodflow slowed. 

"You've got about a minute, Will, his blood pressure's going to tank right about now and we can kill him that way too." This time it was Will using magical healing - visualizing the structure of the arterial wall at the cellular level and accelerating the body's natural clotting mechanisms. Like a time-lapse film, Will saw the rush of white blood cells, the build up of the matrix of plaques plugging the ruptured wall. He hummed the hymn for Optimization that would maximize red blood cell production from the marrow of Polly's longbones to make up for the hemorrhage. In 30 seconds, Will sprang back from Polly, exclaiming, 

"Done! Heart rate back up, now!" 

Mara changed her tone, and Will could feel the life course back into their brother - over-compensating a bit at first to raise the blood pressure, but quickly normalizing. Mara swiftly activated a gold flare to signal a fallen healer and two wood nymph stretcher bearers barreled toward them to carry Polly in. 

"Arte's in the infirmary, Pol. She'll be happy to see you." Mara murmured over him as the willowy nymphs gently strapped him in place, taking care not to disturb the arrow that would be surgically removed later. 

Will and Mara took a minute staring at each other wide-eyed. 

"I guess we wreck ourselves for our own, Will," Mara finally said, dryly. But she crawled over to wrap him in her arms and they hugged tightly. Will was shaking with fatigue and over-exertion. But the twins would be safe now, back at camp, and that was worth it. 

The 12 year old twins, named by their Greek mother after their father in the most blatant way - Apollo (Pol or Polly) and Artemis (Arte, sometimes, Missy) - had arrived at camp only a few months ago. They were strong archers and skilled healers, but virtuosic musicians. As identical as a brother and sister could possibly be, they were usually inseparable and were utterly devoted to each other. If Polly died, Will was pretty sure Arte wouldn't want to go on living without him. Pulling out of their comforting embrace, Will could see tears streaking Mara's blood spattered face. No doubt she was remembering being the sister in the camp infirmary when her brother Lee had been brought in after the Battle of the Labyrinth. Will brushed her tears away with his thumbs and she nodded and smiled acknowledging the sympathy and comfort. Mara got herself under control just in time to see the orange flare on the other side of the hill - another medic crew needed assistance. 

"I'll go," Mara declared. "I'm a little less wrecked than you, despite the waterworks. Maybe you should go on offensive for a bit, Will." She ran off. Will had just grabbed Pol's forgotten bow, realizing with dismay that the quiver was on the way to the infirmary with the Apollo namesake, when Octavian staggered past him unseeingly, purple robes trailing along behind him, pushing a cart heaped with imperial gold artifacts, heading back towards the third onager. He was grinning insanely and muttering to himself. Will knew he was in no shape to challenge Octavian on his own. He knew adrenaline was the only thing keeping him on his feet at the moment. He needed help; no question which tough, stubborn, clueless warrior kid he wanted by his side - Nico. Plus, Will felt Nico would want to be part of confronting Octavian. But he had to hurry. Will crammed his last piece of strength-inducing gum into his mouth, chewing as he ran.

Will held on to the bow as he sprinted into the fight. He might be able to scavenge an arrow or two. The swordsmen would be right at the front line, hacking into the enemy close range. That's where Nico would be. And likely where the fighting seemed most dense. Will could see a cluster of two-headed monsters amids billowing monster dust. Will would bet anything Nico was the cause of the dust. 

Sure enough, a moment later Will could see Nico slashing away with his sword as if fatigue was a foreign word his body just couldn't understand and therefore chose to ignore. He fought shoulder to shoulder with Jason who looked up in alarm as Will approached Nico and threw an arm around his neck to bring his mouth close to Nico's ear. If Nico was surprised by the blood-sticky arm yanking him back he didn't show it. His eye's widened and then narrowed at the one word Will choked out through his relief at seeing Nico alive: "Octavian."

Nico turned to Jason, "I have to go." He didn't wait for a response before following Will back the way Will had come. Racing beside each other past fighting demigods, and flashes of various weaponry, they were unchallenged by the monsters. Will suspected that, unarmoured as they were, and also being filthy and blood-stained, they looked more like members of the monstrous auxiliary forces than Greek or Roman soldiers. Fortunately, friendly-fire didn't find them either. Everyone was distracted by newly fully awake and personified Gaea being swiped into the sky by a huge bronze dragon that moments before had been a Greek trireme piloted by Leo Valdez.

Will and Nico stopped short as they came up to Octavian busy fiddling with the onager settings having already loaded the machine with the volatile Imperial gold. They could see it was aimed directly toward the chaotic fight in the sky: Jason and Piper had joined in to battle Gaea held firm in the machinic dragon's claws. Will threw out his left hand and protectively grasped Nico's right forearm, not even really thinking that Nico needed his protection in any specific way, but rather just reassuring himself that he wasn't alone in figuring out what they were going to do about this. Will tried to make Octavian see that his glorious last stand was an exercise in futility, that his own robes were caught in the gears. Octavian was oblivious and obstinate - obsessed with the idea that his attack would finish off Gaea and he would be pronounced a hero. Will was not unfamiliar with death - some deaths that could be considered heroic, and many that were simply the sad ends of too-short-lives. How many hands had he held this morning as life ebbed away? How many had he come across who were past the point of even needing that small comfort? If he could prevent another death, he would. But Nico was speaking:

"Will, we can't prevent this... Some deaths should not be prevented."

Will pulled his hand away from Nico's arm in shock. What anti-wisdom was this? What was his role as healer except to prevent death? "No!" Will protested, "Nico! I can't stand by and...." Will turned to plead once more with Octavian, but Octavian had ordered his feloow-Roman who had just chanced upon them to stand guard. Will looked aghast from the guard, to Nico. Why were they just standing there silently? They could see as well as he that Octavian was about to inadvertently commit suicide. Will was still disbelievingly watching Nico's determined face when Octavian released the mechanism and screamed his way to his death in the fiery sky. 

Something inside Will snapped.

"Did we just let that happen?" he screamed as Nico stared at the exploding sky. 

Nico's face jolted back to face him.

"Will, that was supposed to happen - "

Will interrupted, shaking his head and pressing his hands to his face,

"No! That's another death! Another one I couldn't save!" Will couldn't continue, and he couldn't look anymore at Nico's pained and puzzled expression, but he couldn't look away. They both were still chewing that gum desperately. "Why did you say that, Nico? I came and got you so that we would stop the killing, and then we just let him die."

An orange flare erupted a hundred yards to the west of where they stood, and without waiting for Nico's response, Will ran in that direction to give aid where he could.


	5. The Realization and The Prayer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the camp after the battle, Will and Nico get their heads straight.

WILL

Will knew almost immediately as he was running away from the onager that he was out of line blaming Nico for Octavian's death. He knew in his heart as he counted the dead bodies, and dove into the relentless work of post-battle healing, that his own pre-occupation with dying in battle as the head of Apollo cabin was a kind of narcissistic folly. Maybe there was no more meaning in the fact that the two previous Apollo head counselors had died in battle than that Apollo kids generally ended up in the thick of it. Nico's words weighed heavily on his mind, "Some deaths should not be prevented...." He wanted to know what Nico meant by that. Will felt his own death had been prevented that morning (many times by Nico himself). Nico's death had been prevented. Who could know which deaths should be prevented, and which should not? Did Nico actually have that insight? 

Picturing Nico's shocked face as Will had basically accused him of gruesome and apathetic complicity in the death of the Roman traitor, Will felt a sharp pain of regret streak across his chest as he absently tied the final knot on the final suture, of hopefully the final laceration he had to sew up on a poor Roman kid who'd been hit with some kind of shrapnel during battlefield clean-up.

He needed to talk to Nico, if Nico would talk to him, if he could catch him before Nico left the camp for good. Will knew he hadn't left yet, as of last night. At the campfire, Reyna had publicly pulled Nico into an embrace that had left tears streaming down the cheeks of the son of Hades. She'd then handed him a small silver knife which Nico had tried to not accept, but Reyna had insisted and Nico had taken the gift with a shaking hand. The assembled audience had been roaring their approval, but Will had found himself sincerely moved watching Nico's tears, and he hadn't cheered or clapped. And that's when Nico had glanced in his direction. Will could imagine what Nico was thinking, but if Nico thought Will thought he didn't deserve praise or gratitude, he couldn't be more wrong. He had to talk to him. Not to mention, Nico hadn't yet come in for any type of medical attention. Will was terrified that Nico would ignore his warnings about the dangers of further shadow travel. And, Nico's arms had some kind of wounds that needed work. Will wondered if Nico was avoiding the infirmary to avoid him. He had to talk to him!

After the campfire, Will pushed through the crowd of kids heading back to the cabins to try to get close to Nico. Finally he made it to Nico's side, but he couldn't quite even get started on: 

"Hey Nico listen I'm so sorry I said those things to you I really don't want you to leave the camp ever let me fix your arms and please you need sleep and I love you so much "

before the magnified voice of Chiron could be heard over the crowd, 

"Attention: Will Solace, please present to the infirmary. Extra hands needed immediately." 

Will stopped walking at the sound and was jostled from behind by the still-moving crowd, stumbling into Nico who stumbled in turn. They instinctively grabbed at each other's arms to right themselves, causing Nico to drop his knife. The both crouched down simultaneously to pick it up, reaching for it at the same time, Will's fingers brushing the back of Nico's hand as it closed around the weapon. 

"Sorry," Will blurted out, pulling his hand away. They stood up at the same time and were once again jostled against each other by the moving crowd. "I'm sorry," Will said again, cheeks blazing. Then they both spoke at once: "I gotta go," from Will, and "Solace, you'd better go," from Nico.

Will turned, dodging through the campers to run towards the infirmary. He hadn't said anything he wanted to say! He was no closer to making sure Nico was safe and on his way to being sound. He didn't see Nico staring after him with the crowd parting around him while he stood clutching the silver knife.

NICO  
That night, after curfew, after Frank had kissed his sister goodnight, and after Hazel had cried herself to sleep and Nico had tucked her into his own bed, he kissed her forehead gently. The cabin was quiet and dim, the only noise the crickets from outside the open window. Nico stood by the bed staring down at his sister, his fellow old-soul. 

"It's not just getting a new life, it's what you make of it..." he'd said to Hazel not half and hour ago. But panic started to well up within him. It's not that he didn't want a better life, but it would mean facing some truths about himself that carried so much pain, so much self-loathing, so much yearning and heartbreak. For a moment, Nico was frozen, mind buzzing, ears ringing. He just wanted all those feelings to stop! To get away! He could just step into this shadow of the bedpost... But Will's voice echoed in his mind,

'You won't come back!' 

No, Nico had been willing to risk his life to get the Athena Parthenos to the camp, to protect his friends, and to fight Gaea, but he would not risk molecular disintegration because he was too afraid to deal with being ...what he was, who he was. He didn't want to run, anyway. It was time to come out of the shadows. But how?

Nico found his eyes drawn to the small shrine honouring his father, a small table adorned simply with a couple representative bones and a few gemstones. He remembered his father's eyes softening during their conversation in the church in Evora. Perhaps his father understood and accepted him more than Nico gave him credit for. "My children are so rarely happy," Hades had said, "I'd like you to be an exception..." Nico blinked. He would love to be happy...

"There's a first time for everything," he muttered to himself, as he knealt before the shrine.

He stared at the bones on the table, willing a fervent prayer to come into his head, but quickly realized he needed to do the thing properly. He got up again. In the drawer of the table was a black obsidian bowl, and a candle of beeswax. Nico set the bowl on the floor in front of the table. Ignoring the jewels, Nico arranged the bones symmetrically on either side of the bowl. Nico then filled the black bowl to the brim with water from his water bottle. With a match, Nico melted a bit of the wax at the base of the candle and pressed the candle onto the floor, centred above the brimming bowl. As Nico brought the match to the wick, the watery-mirror shimmered, reflecting the light. The cathedral smell of beeswax filled the room. Instead of kneeling, Nico sat cross-legged before the bowl with his hands resting lightly on his knees. He gazed at the reflection of the flame, letting his thoughts swirl where they may. Prayer wasn't so much a demand, as an opening up, a willingness to find the potentials. After several minutes Nico's mind had settled and stilled, just as his eyes had settled on the unwavering light. The same as when traveling through dreams, he let himself be open to the images and sounds that filled his mind in turn. 

The first image was of Hades in the Portuguese church his voice like a whispering breeze,"...driven by bitterness and anger. You can understand that...."

Then Nico could see himself mid-battle in the crumbling ruins of Salona, Cupid's arrow striking his sword arm, and full understanding dawning on Jason's face. 

Hazel, brushing a tear off his cheek with her thumb from deep within the house of Hades while Nico trembled with relief at seeing Percy alive, and his heart broke with despair watching Percy and Annabeth embrace.

Nico felt himself acknowledging and analyzing his feelings for Percy Jackson with an air of detachment: admiration and awe (athletic, brave, loyal, sincere Percy), and the electric pulse of arousal (those strong hands, that easy grin), but also, an uneasy annoyance (those terrible puns, and had he ever read a book?). He could bring to mind the immense pleasure-pain of being absolutely in love with Percy, maybe the way one, looking back after eating one's fill, remembers the acute desire for food before. Remembering a desire is not the same as being in the throes of desire. 

He didn't want Percy anymore? Relief washed through him, and his heart felt instantly lighter! Nico held tightly to this revelation, while images of Annabeth and Percy, together as long as he'd known them, flashed through his mind. Another truth surfaced for Nico - long known, but always, always pushed away and ignored. Percy didn't want a boyfriend, anyway; he wasn't .....gay. 

Gay. Nico rolled that around in his mind, a label for what he just knew about himself. How long had he known this?

A memory surfaced suddenly, shocking Nico with it's clarity and detail. It was an old memory, from his life before, and Nico didn't have many of those, thanks to his forced bath in the Lethe after his mother's murder. 1942: Having recently arrived in Washington D.C. he was sitting on a high stool at a drug store soda counter, thrilled to be doing something so American. Bianca and two other girls sat beside him, and they were all gushing about the movie they'd just seen, specifically about the new actor, Gene Kelly - his smile, his singing, his dancing! One of the girl's affected a swoon with hand over her heart and sighed, 

"I think I'm in love!" The other girls and Bianca had agreed. Nico had chimed in with fervent sincerity, "Me too!" 

The girls went silent as Nico sipped his soda and then pulled away from the straw, realizing he said something wrong. Then, they laughed like Nico was joking, but Bianca had looked at him gently and ruffled his hair. She winked, saying in Italian, 

"He has beautiful eyes, no?" 

Nico had grinned and raised his eyebrows in silent agreement. The memory faded. Bianca had always accepted him for who he was.

Jason's voice in the ruins, "...you'd have that many more people to back you up, to unleash the fury of the gods on anyone who tried to give you trouble...."

His father's almost-kind eyes, almost teasing about his son's obsession with the son of Poseidon.

Reyna and Coach Hedge reaching out and supporting him after being exposed to his pain, his darkest secrets. 

Reyna pulling him into her arms.

The warm cheering from the Roman and Greek kids, watching.

And Will Solace. The aptly named son of Apollo, a crazy mixture of earnest goof and fiery determination. Will's angry voice, "...at least people who want to be your friend.....head out of that brooding cloud...."

Being held against Will's chest; the naturalness of leaning his head back onto Will's shoulder.

But, Will no doubt thought he was some kind of creepy, soulless ghoul. He'd basically said as much with his horrified accusations after Octavian's death. Days ago, Nico wouldn't have cared what anyone thought of him, but he found he really, really wanted Will to know he wasn't like that. And maybe Will would still reject him.... but....

Will's eyes at the campfire. Will's fingers brushing his hand. Will's voice saying, "I'm sorry." The lovely accident of Will's chest being jostled against his arm, however briefly. Hope bubbled in the pit of Nico's stomach...

Nico was jolted out of his trance by a banging on his cabin door. He forced his stiff legs to move, and opened the door to sunshine (was it morning already?), and, Will? Nico's heart leapt and then crash landed, recognizing Jason Grace. They stepped outside to talk.

WILL  
He gave the kid he'd finished working on one last sip of nectar and sent him on his way back to the Roman encampment with instructions to keep the cuts clean. The day shift healers were starting to trickle in, and he hurried to finish his charting notes so he could give report and head to bed himself. A few minutes later he'd updated Mara, and was getting changed out of his scrubs. He was so tired! He'd been on days yesterday, and then had to work through the night, too, due to the shrapnel accident. He sat staring dumbly around for his t-shirt and couldn't see it anywhere. "Fuck it," he thought to himself, exhaustedly, and left the infirmary still wearing the green scrub shirt with his jeans and flip flops. 

Just as he reached the door of Cabin 7, Will saw two familiar boys across the green. Jason, his golden glasses glinting in the morning sun, and Nico, looking like a dark mess, both with serious expressions. 

Nico hadn't left camp, yet! Will felt so relieved. Maybe now he could convince Nico to check in to the infirmary. ("Where I can keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't do anything stupid," Will thought, and then amended, "who am I kidding? I just want him where I can look at him....") But first, they actually had to talk to each other...

Will watched Jason suddenly become effusive with a big grin on his face. Jason went to hug Nico, and then caught himself. Will smiled as he watched Nico say something with a small shrug, and then accepted the embrace. As Jason and Nico pulled away, Will could see Nico notice him, and he put on a stern expression. He pointed at Nico and then at the ground in front of him. You. Here. Now. He was a little surprised, and very thrilled, to see Nico comply. And nervous, too.

"Where were you?" Will demanded of Nico, keeping his stern expression. Nico looked uncertain how to reply. "I've been stuck in the infirmary, and you haven't come by once? You don't think I could stand to see a friendly face?"

Will watched Nico mouth the words, "my face?"

Will continued, hope welling up in his chest, "and I hope you've gotten over your stupid idea about leaving camp..."

"Yeah, I have, I mean, I'm staying...."

Will felt so relieved, he had to fight to keep his voice from shaking, "Good! So you might be dense, but you're not an idiot..." 

Nico replied, with a bit of defensive anger, "how can you even talk to me like that? I can summon zombies, skeletons...", but his expression faltered a bit.

"Ha! No way! You'd couldn't summon a wishbone without wasting yourself. Three days, at least, rest in the infirmary. Doctor's orders. Starting now!" Will waited breathlessly to see how Nico would handle being ordered around. A look of almost relief swept over Nico's face. And a faint pink coloured his cheeks.

"Yeah, I think that would be OK..." 

They stared at each other. 

"Good," Will managed. Then, "you look like shit."

Nico did his one eyebrow raise and that almost-smile lip twitch. "I could say the same for you, Solace."

A whoop from the green caused both of them to turn to see what was happening. Will heard Nico's long sigh.

"I gotta go do something," he told Will, "I'll be right back. Promise on the Styx and all that...."

Will watched him jog away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The 1942 movie is "For Me and My Gal", Gene Kelly's debut Hollywood role.


	6. The Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of this work. Nico enters the infirmary and his healing is begun. It references and links up to my previous work, "The Convalescence of Nico di Angelo".

Will watched Nico jog back towards him after high-fiving Annabeth, leaving Percy just standing there with his mouth hanging open. Nico had a bemused expression on his face, but, did his eyes look a little clearer? Will didn't feel he could ask what that was all about. He gave Nico a tired smile as he came up to him. Seeing the smile, Nico shook his head slightly. He couldn't quite figure Will out - one minute bossy and stern, next minute teasing and affable. "Just breathe and see what happens," he told himself, "You don't need to figure it all out in the first two seconds."

"Ok, lead on," Nico said. His right hand went to his hip absently and he looked down at himself. "My sword!" he stopped walking suddenly.

"You won't need it," Will said gently. 

Nico gave a kind of dry laugh. "I haven't been without my sword for even a second since the jar."

Will was looking ahead while they walked, listening. He was nodding. Nico appreciated Will's quiet and simple acknowledgment, "Yeah, I heard about that... We can go get your sword, if you want to. I really don't think you'll need it, but if you want it, you know, near you, or whatever, that's OK. It's up to you."

Nico found himself inexplicably choking up. How is it he could face werewolves and traitorous Romans with a face of stone, but he crumbled at any kindness? He just shook his head, not looking back at Will. Will left it at that. They'd arrived at the infirmary door. Nico stood back and let Will go in first. But he did follow.

The infirmary was the re-purposed back sunporch and adjacent rooms of the Big House. The entry was warm and sunlit, with a desk and filing cabinents off to one side, a grand piano, and comfortable-looking chairs in groupings near the windows. French doors led from the sunporch lobby to a long hallway with several open doorways leading to ward rooms. The sunny lobby was bustling. Some kids with bandage-wrapped heads, or crutches sat in the comfy chairs eating breakfast from trays on folding tables. A young man with dark corn rows played a piano version of Vivaldi's 'Summer'. A few kids wearing scrubs went back and forth from the front desk through the french doors, careful to close them as they went through. 

"Thought you were sleeping, Chief," the pianist called over as they entered.

"I found a wounded warrior out on the green," Will replied, ushering Nico toward the front desk. "Where's Mara?"

The sultry 16 year old with strawberry blond curls piled into a top-knot came through the door at just that point. She said, "I'm right here. Why aren't you sleeping?"

Will ignored the question. "This is Nico.". Mara gave him a wry glance, "yeah, we know." She turned to Nico, "Hey, Nico. Nice to formally meet you." Nico nodded. "Same," he said simply.

"Nico's going to rest up here for a few days," Will told his sister. Mara looked Nico over appraisingly. 

"Ok," she finally said, "but I'm swamped for about 15 more minutes. Can you get him checked in? You'll want some breakfast before bed anyway, both of you." She grabbed some charts and hurried back through the doors.

Will turned to Nico, "you hungry?" he asked.

Nico felt extremely out of his element, but was starving, and food would be a good start here, "Always," he admitted.

"Hey, Arte!" Will got the attention of a young girl with black curls touching her shoulders. She had the strong elegant face of ancient Greek statuary, and the Mediterranean skin tone to match. The girl turned to Will and smiled. "Any more breakfast trays?"

"I think so," she replied. "Want me to bring a couple?"

Will nodded, "Thanks." He had grabbed a fresh chart folder and a pen and was leading Nico to two of the comfortable chairs at the far end of the lobby. Will flopped down into one of the chairs, and Nico took the other one, sitting much more stiffly. 

"You ok?" Will peered into Nico's pale apprehensive face. Nico didn't answer, but looked back at Will and took a deep breath. "Don't run away," he told himself. Will didn't push for a reply. He did push the folder toward Nico saying, "You can fill out the background information yourself."

Nico took the pen in hand. Will watched him look over the intake form. Nico clicked the pen with his thumb, and began to write. Di Angelo, in the space for surname. Nico paused, "I have a ridiculous array of first names. Do you need them all?" 

Will smiled, "Up to you."

Upside down, Will read Nico's old-fashioned cursive writing: Nikolaos Mario Giovanni Andrea (Nico)

Will couldn't help it, "Nikolaos?"

Nico's dark eyes met his, with a bit of a challenge. "It's Greek."

Will nodded placatingly, "It would be. Jeez, Nico, calm down. I like it." He looked up, saved by Arte arriving with a tray for them the share - two bowls of fruit salad, toast and a jar of peanut butter. 

"Thanks," Will smiled warmly at his younger sibling. She kissed his cheek with true affection. "Thank you," Nico added. Arte smiled at him shyly as she left their table. 

Nico looked around for a brazier to make an offering to the gods, but he didn't see any. He took a spoonful of fruit and set it aside on the tray. "Father," he murmured reverently. Will watched him wordlessly, swallowing his first mouthful. They didn't speak. Will took another bite of fruit, and started spreading peanut butter on a piece of toast. Nico took a spoon of fruit for himself and took up the pen again. Birthdate: 1932 January 21; Age: 14. He looked over the rest of the list and set down the pen. "This is all I know," he said quietly. Will nodded, "Ok."

They continued to eat in silence. Nico finally put down his spoon.

"About Octavian," he began.

Will closed his eyes and rubbed his tired face.

"We have to talk about that," Nico continued. His brow furrowed with anxiety. "I'm not some kind of monster!" It came out way more passionately than Nico had planned. 

Will looked taken aback at Nico's bluntness. But, no, it was better to talk about it plainly.

"I wasn't sure what to think about that," he admitted. He leaned in, elbows on the table. "I'm a healer! I can't just choose who to save. I... I.... When you said some deaths should not be prevented, I couldn't even comprehend what that would mean. I shouldn't have accused you of any kind of evil intention, but it scared the shit out of me that you might know, or have some power over whether anyone should live or die." Will's summer-sky eyes searched Nico's for answers.

Nico sighed. Without getting into how much knowledge and power he actually did have in that liminal space between life and death, he explained, 

"It was a shot in the dark, kind of." Will waited for more. Nico sighed again, "My father... He came to speak to me during the quest. He told me that one of the seven was destined to die, and that it was my role to not stand in the way of that death. That some deaths should not be prevented." 

Will waited, his expression softening with understanding. Nico swallowed through the tightness of his throat, and managed to continue. "I didn't know who was to die, but the words came to me as we faced Octavian. And he was being so obstinate, so blind to his own demise.... Hades' words came to me then, and I made the choice to have faith in his prescience. So...., so we allowed Octavian's death to play out, and thereby didn't interfere (as my father thought I might attempt) in another death that was supposed to happen. Leo's. One of the seven." 

Will mulled that over. 'Had this intense, lovely boy just used the words prescience and thereby?' a voice at the back of his mind wondered, impressed. Will put that thought aside for future further consideration. 

"Ok. That's .... amazing, and makes the kind of fucked up sense I would expect from the gods and the fates. And, so... I'm safe continuing to try to prevent death, as a general rule and professional standard?" 

Nico gave him a half smile, "I'd say so."

Will lifted his elbows off the table and flopped back into his chair. He looked at Nico intently, "I never thought you were a monster, Nico. That whole thing just really blew my mind. And I was so tired. I'm so tired." 

Nico's brow had relaxed. He could understand tired, for sure. Will felt his heart thumping with relief. The Octavian smog had been cleared away from between them. Will sat up again.

"Now, speaking of preventing death, what the hell did you do to your arms?"

Nico went for it. While they both started eating again, Nico told the whole story - about battling the wolves, trapping them in summoned bones, being hopelessly outnumbered and yet with no shadow available for them to use to escape. As Nico described how he had created the necessary shadow by taunting Lycaon to attack and then stabbing him close range with Reyna's silver knife, Will listened intently with his forgotten toast half-way to his mouth. Mara had joined them partway through the story, pulling up and straddling a chair. She had a puzzled look on her face.

"I don't get it," she said, "how did you hurt your arms? And how did this get you a shadow?"

As Nico continued he mimed holding the rope attached to his friends and the Athena Parthenos in his left hand. "I had Reyna's knife palmed in my right like this." He held up his right fist. "Lycaon charged. When he got close enough, I shoved the blade into his heart. His claws dug into my arms. And he dissolved into a shadow. And that's the shadow I used to jump." 

Will and Mara were both staring at him with mouths hanging open. They looked at each other, like, who IS this guy?

"Well, that explains that, then," Mara said dryly. "Holy shit, Nico!". 

Nico shrugged. He didn't know what to say. It wasn't even the most dramatic or crazy thing that had happened to him this summer.

Will just looked at Nico with an unreadable expression, two fingers pressed to his forehead as if he had a headache starting. He flopped back into his chair for the second time.

"Nico, I'm going to leave you in Mara's capable hands," Will said finally. He really needed to go to bed. Nico looked a little alarmed.

"You'll like Mara. She's Canadian," Will reassured.

Mara chimed in, smiling, " '-with all their easy social graces...' "

Nico looked over at Mara suddenly, and Will saw Nico's eyes smile for the first time in ages. "Hemingway" he said, a little shyly.

Mara's eyes widened to match her wide grin, "oh, Nico!" she gushed, "you know I fall madly in love with anyone who actually gets my obscure literary references! Name the book and I'm yours forever!" 

"The Sun Also Rises." Nico said promptly, shyness gone. Banter with girls was always easy. He had sisters. Nico went on, "Jake Barnes thinks it about Mrs. Braddocks: 'she was a Canadian and had all their easy social graces.' "

Will blushed. Smart boys always did it for him. 

Mara laughed. She reached out to ruffle Nico's hair. Nico pulled his head away gently, not wanting to offend, but leaving no doubt. Mara got the message and pulled her hand back. Ok, no touching.

Overhearing their conversation, walking by collecting the breakfast trays, another young Apollo sibling piped up, "Wow, guys, sounds like now there'll be, like, three of you hanging out in the library in the Big House," she teased.

Mara leaned in close to Nico and stage whispered, conspiratorially, "That's Kayla, the only Canadian lacking easy social graces." Kayla flipped Mara the bird. "See?" Mara continued, feigning shock. 

Mara then suddenly became serious. "Ok, Nico, come with me. Let's get started." She pushed back her chair and stood as Nico got up, too. She started to lead him towards the doors heading out of the lobby towards the wards.

"I'll be back later," Will called over.

"Yes, 'night, Will," Mara replied without looking at him, her face scanning the scant notes in Nico's chart.

Mara led Nico into a small examination room at the end of the hallway. They had walked past ward rooms with open doors revealing 6 to 8 cots per room with crisp white sheets and kids in various stages of convalescence. It was quiet back here, though Nico could hear the occasional chime or gong; but those noises seemed appropriate and non-intrusive. "We don't normally have all the wards open," Mara explained as they walked briskly, "but, we've been busy, you know... Thankfully, the worst seems to be over for everyone.". Nico hoped her words were true of him as well. 

She went to close the door of the tiny room, but she noticed Nico stiffen. "Please, don't," he whispered, "I can't be closed in a small room..."

"That is not a problem," Mara opened the door wide again before she sat down across from where Nico sat on the examination bed.

She watched Nico's eyes dart around the room nervously, noting the bloodshot sclera, the black bruising underneath, the pale cheeks. If nothing else, this kid was completely fatigued.

"Nico, why are you here?"

"Will told me to."

Mara nodded, "Yes, but what do you think you need healed? We can fix up your arms, but it's more than that, isn't it?"

Nico nodded slowly. "I need rest," he admitted.

Mara pursed her lips, looking like she could see through him. "When did you last sleep?"

Nico thought back. So much had happened in the last few days... He'd been busy with the funeral rites, and before that the battle, and before that.... "I was out for three days in a shadow coma, before August 1st."

Mara looked at the paper in the folder where Will had scrawled, 'precarious corporeality due to excessive shadow travel. Potential to become shadow. Query sleep therapy.' "You haven't been able to sleep when you've tried? Or you haven't tried in several days?" Mara inquired.

Nico shrugged. "Sleep usually works as a restorative for me, like for other demigods. And unicorn draught, rather than nectar and ambrosia." Mara made some notes. Nico continued, "but I know I've been pushing it too much with the shadow travel, and when I sleep, I move through the dreamscapes. And that's really similar to shadow travel. I guess if I might not come back from shadow travel, I could get lost in the dreams in the same way. And not come back."

Mara bit her cheek as she considered this. She hadn't encountered quite this problem before. 

"Can you decide whether to move through the dreams, Nico?"

"Well, yes, usually. In this weakened state, I'm not sure."

"Okay. What we're going to do, Nico, is help you sleep, step one. If we can get you into a restorative sleep, I want to see what that will do for you. I'd also like to run a full diagnostic so I can support the healing sleep and optimize your restoration." She paused. "I won't do anything you don't want me to. And I can't read your mind..... But, I'll need to touch you, Nico. I use oils, and sound, and touch to support your body's own healing processes. You have to think about whether that will be ok for you."

Nico studied Mara's earnest and solemn face for a long moment. "How would you touch me?" he asked finally.

"With my fingertips. Your scalp, temples, throat, collarbones, breast bone, wrists, maybe your hands. Like this: May I?" Mara reached for his hand. A moment's hesitation in which Nico made a choice and held out his right hand. Mara took the offered hand with both of hers, turning it palm up. She gently drew a circle with one index finger over the pulse point of his wrist, and then spread her fingers, dragging them down from Nico's wrist over his calloused palm along his fingers. The touch was purposeful and warm. And safe, Nico thought. This would be ok. In fact, he didn't want to pull his hand back. He felt his eyes well up.

Nico nodded. "That will be ok," he said quietly. Mara nodded, simply, again. She would be ever so gentle with this warrior-boy of the shadows, fighter of werewolves. Sleep and affection, she mused, ancient healing in its purest forms. She handed Nico some cotton pajama-type pants and a simple cotton t-shirt. "Alright, Nico. You can get changed, get comfortable, and we can begin."

Forty-eight hours later, Mara checked on Nico peacefully sleeping in a spacious and otherwise empty ward room. Here Nico had privacy, but avoided the claustrophobia of the small private rooms with the closed doors. Clean bandages wrapped Nico's biceps where the festering werewolf claw marks had been cleaned and re-sutured. Two days of sleep had removed the bruises from Nico's eyes, his face so calm, breathing steady.  
She stood at his head and pressed both hands to Nico's temples sending the diagnosing energy force through Nico from his head to his toes. Mara shook her head, Nico was her enigma. He was so strong, yet there was still something within him that kept his body on the verge of dissipation. There was a darkness Mara could sense. Basic Encouragement and Optimization tones bounced off of it. Mara felt that Nico's healing lay beyond that darkness, that chipping away at the darkness would be the way forward. She pulled her hands away, contemplating her next step. Her eyes lit upon a rarely used small brown bottle. Maybe.... She touched the oil to her finger tip and felt the thrum of its power. Myrrh. Traditionally funereal for its ability to cleanse the physical and the soul... Mara wondered... her finger hovered for a moment, and then she took a deep breath and touched the oil to Nico's forehead. The healing weapon coursed through Nico like an arrow, piercing the darkness at his core. Mara sensed some of the darkness shear away, like falling shale from a cliff. But then there was a rebound, a reverberation from the darkness. Nico emanated "No!" from his depths with such force, Mara' psychic connection was jarred and almost lost. Mara sensed Nico's agitation, pulse rising and breaths quickening. Tears poured from his closed eyes, his face scrunched in pain. Shocked, Mara realized her index finger was sinking into Nico as his forehead flashed into shadow. She snatched her hand back. 

"No, No, No, Nico don't do this," she begged. Mara quickly hummed the tone for Soothe, reaching for oils of vetiver and clary sage for grounding and calm, and then applying the oils with her palms, smoothing them down Nico's chest, relieved to find Nico to be skin and muscle under her touch. Instantly, Nico relaxed back into peaceful sleep, and Mara breathed again. She went to withdraw her shaking hands. As soon as her fingers lost contact with Nico's skin, his complexion visibly darkened. A quick touch to Nico's temple revealed what Mara suspected. The dark core was spreading through Nico's body, enticing Nico to become shadow. The dark core - some sort of build up of anguish - needed to go. But Nico was fighting against its breakdown. Why was he holding on to the darkness so vehemently? And Nico's fight against the healing was such a physical stress. The darkness was killing him, fighting the healing was killing him. There must be a way to get at that darkness in a way that Nico could accept. Mara changed her tone from Soothe to Consolation in hopes that Nico would respond to sympathy. But Sympathy caused a shattering of an edge of the darkness and a rebound even stronger than the first. Mara had misjudged what Nico needed. His pulse spiked again and his muscles began to tighten and clench in seizure. Mara pulled the cord for the intercom, "I need Will here, now!" she shouted. She hummed a Sustain, praying to Apollo and his son Asclepius for intervention.

Will bounded in, forcing panic down and away as he took in the scene - Nico thrashing on the bed, his face tormented and grey. Mara's voice explaining, something about a darkness and Nico fighting the healing and Nico slipping away. Will's mind raced through possible remedies but the solution didn't come to him. He wasn't even sure what was happening. He heard his voice breaking, "Don't fucking give up, Nico! I'm right here!" He wasn't sure why he said that. He grabbed Nico's hand.

Mara's voice seemed to come from a distance, "Talk to me, Will, what are you doing?"

"Nothing! I'm not doing anything! I'm just holding his hand!"

"Something changed, Will, what did you do?"

Nico's body was relaxing. He was still grey, but the tears had stopped.

"Nothing! I'm not doing anything!," Will insisted again. "Want me to run a diagnostic?"

"What's his pulse?"

"130"

"Fuck, better, but still too high."

"It's going down. 126, 120, 98."

Will and Mara stared at each other, chests heaving. Will released Nico's hand. Nico immediately clenched again in pain.  
"No!" Mara said, "Don't let go!"

Will grasped Nico's hand in his, interlacing their fingers. Nico calmed again. 

"Just... do whatever you're doing, Will. He's ok when you're doing that."

"I'm not doing anything!"

"Well, whatever you're not doing, just keep doing that."

"The healing is behind the darkness, Will. I need to get that out. He's not fighting me now. I can do it."

"Don't channel him, Mara! It's underworld darkness."

"No, it's not! It's mortal psychic defense. It's fear. It's heartbreak. He's not fighting me, but he's not letting me through it."

"The molecular space needs to release - that's underworld, Mara. That's shadow travel residual. You can't carry that."

"I'm thinking Frankincense." Will glanced up at Mara sharply.

"Another funereal oil? Mara! It's too strong. Myrrh almost killed him."

"Yeah, but Will, Myrrh acts as an aggressor - actively cleansing. I tried to just scrub the darkness away. Frankincense is strong, but it penetrates wrenching grief, fear of the unknown... Nico's in pain, Will."

"No, he's going to be ok," Will's voice was choked. He was suddenly weeping. "He's going to be ok." Will said the words over and over like a mantra. It was true. The greyness shifted slowly from Nico's skin. A peaceful expression returned. Will cried harder, his shoulders shaking. Will was taking on Nico's darkness, and releasing it for him. Mara wasn't certain he even knew that that was what he was doing. Realization washed over her like a warm sunbeam. Will loved this son of Hades. He was loving this son of Hades.

Mara chanced another diagnostic temple-touch. Yes, the dark wall was breaking down. Nico was letting it happen. Mara touched the drop of Frankincense to the base of Will's neck to help him carry Nico's pain. Will's sobs started to subside. He dropped to his knees beside Nico's bed and pressed his face against the cool cotton sheets. Mara came around the bed and ran her fingers through her brother's hair affectionately. "Nico needs you, Will," she whispered. "Stay here. Rest."

Will, half-asleep, worn out, crawled onto the cot beside Nico, still clutching Nico's hand tightly. In his once-again peaceful sleep, Nico turned to his side and curled into Will, his arm pulled around Will and held firmly against Will's chest. Will closed his eyes. Mara covered them with a clean white sheet. She considered humming the tone for Love, but she felt that might be too much, and maybe none of her business. Instead, she left them with two other notes she thought would be beneficial: Peace and Quiet. She clicked off the light, and left them alone, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me through this work. It's been a harder write than other things I've done, but I'm pretty proud of it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading it, and for the comments and kudos.


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